"Begin today!" That's all the note said. There was no indication from where it came or who may have written it. Had it been meant for someone else? Meghan looked around the room, but nobody made eye contact back. For a brief moment, she thought it might be a message for her to follow her dreams, but ultimately decided it was easier to ignore it as she crumpled it up and threw it away.
She tried to explain that love wasn't like pie. There wasn't a set number of slices to be given out. There wasn't less to be given to one person if you wanted to give more to another. That after a set amount was given out it would all disappear. She tried to explain this, but it fell on deaf ears.
I recollect that my first exploit in squirrel-shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one side of the valley. I had wandered into it at noontime, when all nature is peculiarly quiet, and was startled by the roar of my own gun, as it broke the Sabbath stillness around and was prolonged and reverberated by the angry echoes.